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Show Floyd, who used to memorize cowboy songs and sing them in bars, now occasionally shares his poetry with friends. He enjoys reading the work of other poets, particularly Robert Service and Edgar Allan Poe. He currently works as a mechanic on heavy mine equipment and in the evenings writes poetry "just for something to do." THE DAY I ROPED A DEER We was sittin' drinkin' coffee At the ranch house in the morn And I'd just finished a-chewin' On a biscuit made of corn. It was winter in Messita And we worked through the days A-feedin' steers and heifers With a stack of first crop hay. We had a hand there with us By the name of Lucky Joe And he came into Utah From a town in Idaho. Well, Joe was lucky bettin' And we never seen him lose. That's how old Joe bought all his clothes And how he bought his booze. Old Joe sat down his coffee cup, As if he'd got his fill, And on the table he laid down A twenty dollar bill. He said, I'll bet a twenty To anybody here, That there's not a man in this whole land Who can hog tie just one deer. We thought that he'd gone crazy As we all sat there that day. Old Lucky Joe was going to go And throw his money away. Cowboy Poetry From Utah 87 |